


Experiments

by bcole4



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Heavy Drinking, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bcole4/pseuds/bcole4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock loves experiments. Until one night, John presents an experiment that throws Sherlock for a loop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experiments

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Johnlock, and I'm not sure if I really got Sherlock right. Reviews are much appreciated!

Experiments. They were everything to Sherlock. When others had nothing to do, he had a lab in his kitchen. And cases? Cases were just big experiments. They were avenues for experiments. Experimentation- it was what everything came down to. It was the center of Sherlock’s world.

And then, suddenly, it wasn’t. John moved in, and strangers turned into friends, and friends turned into something more. Sherlock didn’t want to say they were “best friends”, mostly because he hated the term, found it juvenile, didn’t like how it felt on the tongue. But they were constant companions, always together. Sherlock knew everything about John, knew his likes and dislikes, knew his favorite telly shows, his least favorite jumpers. And he knew every inch of John, the way he walked, every bit of skin, every detail of his profile. Suddenly, almost without Sherlock realizing it, John was everything to Sherlock.

Not in any romantic sense. Occasionally, when it was very late and Sherlock was almost driven mad by the silence of London, he thought that maybe he would have romantic feelings for John, if he was capable of having romantic feelings at all. He’d never “liked” anyone, didn’t even know how it felt. He’d always been too busy with other things to notice anyone. And this was the problem, the thing that scared Sherlock a bit- Sherlock knew, without a doubt, that he noticed John, would always notice John, would never be too busy for him. But he figured it wouldn’t ever be a problem, it wouldn’t ever compromise his work, or John’s part in it. Nothing would ever happen between the two of them.

And then, one day, something did happen. Thus began a series of the most baffling, most rewarding experiments Sherlock had ever taken part in.

It started on a dark, overcast night. Sherlock had to go to a bar to talk to a bartender about a case. Sherlock was very vocal about how much he hated bars, and he thought that it was ridiculous to even talk to the bartender, as he was certain the victim didn’t drink and wouldn’t have gone to a bar anyway, but Lestrade made him go, so he went. He dragged John along. After the unsuccessful interview with the bartender, John convinced Sherlock to do something he rarely did: drink. And drink they did. One pint turned into two, which turned into whiskey, which turned into a stumbling walk home. After they loudly walked into their flat, laughing about a long forgotten joke, John looked at Sherlock, smiling. Sherlock smiled at John, and he felt something warm inside him, like a sunrise was taking place in his ribcage. Before he could chastise himself for thinking so irrationally, John’s mouth was on his. Sherlock stiffened at first, but John grabbed him by his shirt collar and Sherlock eventually melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around John’s waist. He pressed his thin lips harder onto John’s full ones, wondering wildly when the last time he kissed anyone was, or if it ever felt like this. Before he got the chance to push John against a wall or push his tongue hungrily into John’s mouth, John pulled away. 

After the kiss, they were both totally embarrassed. John’s normally ivory skin was a violent shade of red, and he mumbled something about not feeling well before he went to bed. The next morning, Sherlock had only faint memories about the kiss. It had happened so randomly that Sherlock wondered if it was just a whiskey-fueled dream. Had he really thought about pushing John against a wall? That seemed so out of character that Sherlock refused to believe it had happened. The fact that John said nothing about it only confirmed Sherlock’s theory.

But he couldn’t make the same claim about the second time it happened, about a month later. The second time, John had gone out with friends from his army days. Sherlock had been invited, but elected to stay in. He had no time or use for John’s friends, and besides, they didn’t like him. John came in at about two in the morning, just as Sherlock was getting ready to doze off. He stank of beer and cigars, which repulsed Sherlock.

“You reek,” Sherlock told him hatefully. “Take a shower or something, it’s awful.”

“Want to come with me?” John asked, slurring his words.

Sherlock was shocked. “Was that… Was that supposed to be a pass?”

In response, John bent down to the chair where Sherlock was sitting and pressed his mouth to Sherlock’s. Sherlock was less shocked this time, and he closed his eyes and immediately pushed his tongue into John’s mouth, fulfilling an odd desire to taste the alcohol on John’s tongue, to take in the tobacco that laced his mouth. John responded by grabbing the curls on the back of Sherlock’s head and pulling him closer, causing their teeth to crash together. When John started to tug at Sherlock’s hair, Sherlock pulled away. “John,” he asked, breathing heavily, “John, what is this?”

John just let go of Sherlock, stood up, and said he needed to take a shower. He left Sherlock staring, confused, wondering where this led them. He didn’t want to be with John, the thought scared him. A romantic relationship didn’t work in the context of his already established relationship with John, in the context of his work, or in the context of his own brain. His brain never worked like that. He never had… thoughts about anyone. Even the last time that they kissed (it was becoming increasingly apparent that they had, in fact, kissed that night a month ago), he didn’t think about it afterward.

But when he woke up the next morning, all he could think about was the kiss. Even though he didn’t bring it up, and neither did John, it consumed his thoughts for days, awakened something in him every time he looked at John. He remembered perfectly the taste of John’s mouth, the drunken flush of his cheeks. It was like he had a whole new John to memorize, to analyze. 

Eventually, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He decided the only way to get rid of the feeling taking root in the pit of his stomach (and, occasionally, his crotch) was to perform an experiment of his own. John came home from St. Bart’s one afternoon to a waiting Sherlock. 

“How was your day?” John asked, eyeing the kitchen for potential health hazards.

“It was boring, no experiments to be had,” Sherlock replied.

“Oh God, does this mean you’re going to be up all night tonight?”

“Maybe. But I think I have an experiment to work on,” Sherlock said, realizing with a shock that he was being coy. He stood up and, before he could talk himself out of it, took John’s face in his hands and kissed his lips. He felt John stiffen, and then slowly wrap an arm around Sherlock’s waist, placing a hand on his spine. They stood like that for what seemed like ages, neither man deepening the kiss or moving, and eventually Sherlock pulled away. 

“Sherlock, I…” John started, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence. Sherlock interrupted him.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that this would never work in any circumstance,” he announced, although he didn’t quite believe it. “I’m sorry, John.” And he went to his room.

He’d been working for a few hours on a favor Mycroft had asked of him, which involved the tracking or a certain would-be terrorist, when John entered his bedroom.

“Sherlock, we really should talk about this,” John said, sitting on Sherlock’s bed.

“I thought we already did,” Sherlock replied. But he went from his window to his bed and sat next to John. 

“No, Sherlock, YOU talked about it. If we’re being honest about this, we have to take into account that this is not the first time we’ve… experimented. I’ve kissed you three times.”  
“Yes, and you were drunk the first two. And you initiated those.”

“I initiated them, yes. Because I wanted to kiss you. And I did it when I was drunk because I didn’t have the courage to do it otherwise. And last time, you were sober, and if I remember correctly, you kissed me back with quite a bit of gusto.”

“I got carried away, that’s all.”

“Sherlock.” John took Sherlock’s hand. Sherlock gasped slightly, but didn’t pull away. “You just kissed me a few hours ago. Totally sober. You’re a better man than me, you had the courage to kiss me when you couldn’t use drink as an excuse. But you need to continue that courage and tell me that you want this. Or tell me that you were just playing around. I don’t like the second option, but I would appreciate your honesty in this.”

“It’s not that simple, John,” Sherlock whispered. “I do think I want you. But I can’t be sure, because I’ve never felt this way. And even if I was sure, this would compromise the integrity of everything we do together.”

“It would only compromise the integrity of our work if we let it,” John replied. “And sometimes, Sherlock, things aren’t so black and white. I think you want me, and you think you want me. We can give this a shot and see if we’re right. And if we’re not, well, that’s something we’ll have to deal with. For the time being, if you want, we can keep experimenting.”

Sherlock liked the idea of another experiment with John, and when he nodded and John leaned in to kiss him, the fourth experiment, Sherlock realized that this series of experiments did have results. And rather satisfying ones.


End file.
